


Behind these fortress walls

by AylaPascal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:52:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AylaPascal/pseuds/AylaPascal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The invention of a male pregnancy potion allows the wizarding world to rebuild after the devastating war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind these fortress walls

"This may be unpleasant."   
  
There was no pleasure in his voice. In fact, the man looked almost bored as he gave Snape the potion, as though this was just another day at the office and that Snape was just another Death Eater to be processed. Snape opened his mouth and then closed it again. He'd been through all of this already. The trial had been a farce, but he had almost expected that. It was a foregone conclusion ever since Albus's death. Albus was one of the few who had believed him and he was the only one who had ever believed _in_ Snape.  
  
"Drink this."  
  
Snape took the bottle. "What else would I do with it? Eat it? I take it that the Ministry continues to employ idiots."  
  
The man looked at him impassively. He didn't rise to the insult. What was the point? He knew as well as anybody that Snape was a beaten man. "Drink the potion, sir."  
  
Sir. That galled more than all of this. The politeness together with the blank-faced Aurors pointing wands at his face. Snape almost wished that they would force the liquid down his throat. It would be better that way.   
  
"Sir. The potion."  
  
Closing his eyes, Snape slowly drained the bottle. The cold liquid slid down his throat and settled in his stomach like last night's paltry and over-cooked dinner. His stomach twisted and Snape could feel his innards melt away and reshape themselves. It was surprisingly painful, more painful than he had imagined from what he knew about the potion. He swallowed the urge to throw up. This was worse than being in servitude to the Dark Lord. At least then he had the knowledge that he was doing the right thing by reporting to Albus. He'd never expected to be repaid for his deeds. After all, he was just repaying a debt, but Snape had never expected this.   
  
"Come with me."   
  
The voice was familiar. Too familiar. Snape opened his eyes and looked down. So this was his new owner. He should have guessed. "Potter," he said flatly.  
  
A faint smile twisted Potter's lips.   
  


-#-

  
  
Potter was silent as they walked out of the Ministry.   
  
Snape almost opened his mouth a few times to start a conversation, any conversation to break the silence, but he stopped himself. There was no way he was going to give Potter the satisfaction of knowing how uncomfortable he was. Potter had too much of the upper hand already. Snape had been around too many powerful wizards in his life to not recognise the glitter in Potter's eyes. Potter had got a taste of power.  
  
"Ginny wanted children," Potter said abruptly.  
  
Snape's stomach churned. He knew where this conversation was going. The potion he was given – it was notorious on the streets. "Are you labouring under the delusion that I _care_?"   
  
Potter gave him an odd look, almost as though he hadn't expected Snape to say anything. "I always wanted children too." His tone's almost wistful. "I always imagined that we'd have two, a boy and a girl."  
  
Snape pressed his lips together.  
  
"But then you killed her." Potter's words were light, almost casual. Snape opened his mouth to respond, but Potter beat him to it. "Oh, I know that _you_ didn't, but you might as well have. There's nothing that she could have done against that curse. Do you know what it did to her?"  
  
Snape knew full well. It had been the Dark Lord's last resort. His final attempt at seizing power. The curse was insidious in its simplicity. It drained the power of anybody who it was cast against. Not only their power reserves, but the magic from each and every part of them. The victim was left completely and utterly without magic. Each cell within Potter's wife would have stopped working all at once. Her body would have just crumpled.  
  
Of course, that wasn't the worst part of the curse. The power of the victim was transferred directly to the spell caster. It made them almost invincible. But somehow Potter had still managed to defeat the Dark Lord.   
  
"You knew," Potter said. "You knew that Voldemort had something like that and you didn't tell us."  
  
There was no use in protesting. Snape had tried to explain at his trial. He'd tried to explain that the Dark Lord had suspected that he was a spy and that he was kept under guard the entire time. He'd tried to explain that it was impossible to warn people about the danger of the new curse, but nobody had believed him. Nobody wanted to believe the person who had killed Albus Dumbledore. It didn't matter that Albus's diaries and Pensieve exonerated him. It was easier to blame him.  
  
"You bastard."  
  
Snape almost jumped as Potter's breath tickled his ear. Stepping backwards, Potter's eyes gleamed as he took his wand out of his pocket. Potter's hand clamped around his upper arm as he waved his wand.  
  
The world melted away.  
  


-#-

  
  
The potion was designed to help them rebuild the wizarding world. Reduce the risk of miscarriage. Reduce the risk of childbirth. Reduce the amount of time witches spent pregnant and therefore unable to carry out dangerous spells. It was a fine idea except for one minor problem. They couldn't find any wizards who wanted to act as surrogates for happy couples.  
  
It was a low-level Ministry employee who had first hit upon the idea. They had a ready population who could ingest the potion, carry babies to term and then be sent back to prison to serve out the rest of their sentence. It wasn't cruel, the Ministry argued. They would be treated well. Couples could implant their children within these people magically. It wasn't a violation of their human rights. In fact, they would be treated better than they would be otherwise if they were in Azkaban.  
  
Snape knew that there were no limits to how much the wizarding world could delude itself.  
  
Looking down at his body, Snape knew that he looked the same on the outside. In fact, except for a few minor adjustments (or so the Ministry brochure called it), he was the same on the inside as well. "Do you like having power over me, Potter?" he asked softly.   
  
Potter gave him an impassive look as he pushed open the door. "This will be your room." He gestured with his wand for Snape to step inside.  
  
Snape narrowed his eyes but complied.   
  
It was an okay room, better than his cell at Azkaban anyway. Then again, there would be nothing but the best for the surrogate womb that carried the child of Harry and Ginny Potter. Snape bit the inside of his cheek. He might as well get this humiliating thing over as soon as possible. There was every chance that he wouldn't have to see Potter again for nine months once the foetus was implanted. "Go ahead then, Potter."  
  
Potter looked puzzled as he leaned against the doorway.  
  
"You _bought_ me for a reason," Snape bit out.  
  
"I did," Potter said.  
  
If it wasn't for the wand in Potter's hand, Snape would have hit him. There was no reason for Potter to be deliberately obtuse. Everybody knew why Snape was here. There was only one reason Harry Potter would have bought a Death Eater surrogate.   
  
"I can't say that I'm looking after to carrying the progeny of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, but it seems that I have no other choice." The magic-constricting anklet still chafed. "Implant away."  
  
"I can't do that."  
  
Snape blinked. What on earth was Potter on about?  
  
Potter looked at the floor before taking a step backwards and closing the door. The lock clicked. When Potter responded, his voice was so soft that Snape had to strain to hear the muffled tones. "We wanted to conceive the natural way."  
  
Snape stared.  
  
Potter's footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing fainter and fainter.  
  
Potter and his wife had wanted to conceive the natural way? Snape supposed that wasn't too unusual. There were plenty of couples who hadn't wanted to trust their unborn child to a convicted Death Eater, even with all the Ministry guarantees. But then why on earth did Potter want him for?  
  
Snape was beginning to get a sinking feeling.  
  


-#-

  
  
There was a part of Snape that hoped Potter would just leave him alone, but he had no luck. By his estimates – which, admittedly, may have been completely wrong given the lack of clock in the room – Potter came back after a couple of hours. "Did you forget something?" Snape asked acidly.  
  
Potter held out a tray. "I thought you might want some food."  
  
It was a paltry offering for what meagre freedom Potter had stolen away from him. A couple of sandwiches and a glass of juice. From the smell of the sandwiches, they were beef. Snape stayed silent and hoped that his stomach wouldn't rumble. He never liked beef sandwiches much anyway and pumpkin juice was always too sweet for him.  
  
"Not hungry?" Potter raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised. I thought they didn't feed you guys much in Ministry detention."  
  
That was true enough, but Snape wasn't going to give Potter the satisfaction of seeing him hungry. He pressed his lips together.  
  
Potter sighed as he set the tray down on a table. "What if I promise that it isn't poisoned?"  
  
Snape closed his eyes. "If you want me to eat that food, you will have to force it down my throat." When he opened his eyes again, Potter was looking at him in askance. "Does that offend your delicate sensibilities, Potter?"  
  
Potter shrugged. "If you want me to, I can certainly force you. Would you prefer that? Does that remind you of your master?"  
  
Snape clenched his jaw. "How _dare_ you say that. You know that I was always on your side, on _Albus's_ side. You know that I did all I could. Without me, there would have been no way that you could have won."  
  
"What?" Potter stepped forward. Under the light, his pupils almost seemed overly-dilated. "Do you think that we _owe_ you? Do you think that I should be _grateful_? Should I be grateful that Ginny's dead? Should I be grateful that Dumbledore's dead? Should I be grateful that you're my only option now for children?"  
  
Snape fought the bile that threatened to bubble up. He bit the inside of his cheek and let himself savour the sharpness of the pain. His mind cleared. He focused on Potter and sneered. "Are you imagining a couple of red-haired brats running around this hovel? Not to break your fantasy, Potter, but your wife is dead."  
  
He almost expected Potter to react with anger, with fury, but instead, Potter smiled slowly. "This isn't the best option, but it's the only one available to me now."  
  
Snape had the odd notion that Potter was studying him, sizing him up for something. He had a feeling that this was one test that he didn’t want to pass.  
  
"You're intelligent," Potter said quietly as he took a step forward. "You're resourceful. Those are qualities that I want my children to have."  
  
"Good luck with that," Snape snapped as he tried not to lean backwards. Potter was being disconcerting. "You certainly don't have either of those qualities."  
  
Potter's eyes glittered. "That's why I chose you, Snape."  
  
At first, Snape didn't know what Potter was on about. It was far too ridiculous a notion for his mind to contemplate. But then as a slow smirk curled its way around Potter's lips, the truth began to sink in for Snape. He took a step backwards. And then another. "No," he said. "Oh, no. Potter, you're insane."  
  
Potter tilted his head. "Perhaps," he acknowledged.  
  
"It's also _impossible_ ," Snape told him. Surely he could talk some sense into Potter. Even though he was an idiot most days of the week, inwardly, Snape admitted that even Potter could show some flashes of clarity.   
  
"It isn't." Potter looked almost pleased. "It's a new Ministry addition to the potion you drank this morning."  
  
Snape suddenly remembered how painful the potion had been. He knew what it was. He knew the ingredients and everything told him that it wasn't supposed to be that painful. This explained why; obviously, there was something extra in there.  
  
"Congratulations, Snape," Potter told him.  
  
"This is not possible, Potter," Snape said. Regardless of how certain Potter seemed, he knew the laws of physics. He knew what was possible. Yes, they could rearrange the insides of wizards to make them surrogates, but that didn't mean that they were capable of conceiving their own young. It didn't mean that they could actually get pregnant. The entire process required a witch to get pregnant _first_ and then for the child to be transferred.  
  
"I don't know the exact science behind it, and I don't particularly care, but I know what I was told," Potter said. "I trust the potions maker." He took another step closer. He was so close that Snape could smell Potter's lunch on his breath. "You should be proud."  
  
Snape was disgusted when Potter's hand shot out to caress his stomach. "Don't you dare touch me," he spat.   
  
"I'm going to do a lot more over the next few days," Potter said with a faint smile. "How else do you think we're going to conceive a child together?"  
  
Conceive a child together. The very thought was laughable. "You're dreaming, Potter," Snape told him, careful to keep his voice even.  
  
Potter shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "If I were dreaming, then Ginny would still be alive." He took a few steps backwards until he was underneath the doorway and then looked around the room. "This... this is just making the best of the situation."  
  


-#-

  
  
Snape stared at the tray. "If you were poisoned," he said, "then that might be a relief." His voice echoed in the empty room. If this went on for long enough, Snape knew he'd go crazy. After all, he was already talking to himself.   
  
Despite everything, his stomach rumbled. Snape looked around the room. It was probably monitored. Then again, he reasoned, he had to eat. He had steeled his stomach against almost everything during his years as a spy. He'd often had to politely sip tea while watching Muggles being tortured right in front of him. Surely, he could eat a beef sandwich. Picking up one of the sandwich triangles, Snape bit into it. He almost spat it out again. The beef was dry and the bread was stale. It was better than what the Dark Lord served his prisoners, but then again, almost everything was better than being tortured.  
  
Snape swallowed the mouthful he'd taken and then took a sip of pumpkin juice. At least it was cold and tasted normal. He placed the glass back on the table and then walked over to the so-called bed. Snape prodded it before sitting down. It was probably a bit too much to ask for to expect a four-poster bed in the room, but Snape had expected better than a lumpy mattress on the floor in the corner.   
  
Potter was supposed to be one of the good guys. After all, he was one of the ones who'd campaigned against having the Dementors in Azkaban. Snape had expected he'd treat his prisoners better than this. "Like father, like son," he muttered. James Potter had always been a cruel, arrogant bastard.   
  
Closing his eyes, Snape tested the room's security again. A frown creased his forehead before he shook his head and opened his eyes. There was no use. The wards here were more elaborate than the ones in Azkaban and Snape hadn't been able to escape from there. He'd come close once, but he'd managed to trigger an alarm at the edge of the island. The guards had been non-too-gentle in taking him back to his cell. Azkaban just had the standard set of wards and spell-dampeners to prevent escape. Snape couldn't be sure, but it felt like this room had something extra. His magic didn't feel as restricted here.  
  
Snape pressed his lips together. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. All those years of being a double-agent had honed his ward-breaking skills. Surely he could break through Potter's wards. All he needed was to identify a crack. Almost every ward had its weaknesses and once those weaknesses were exploited, the ward would shatter.  
  
But to find the weakness, he needed more time.  
  
Snape sighed as he looked around the tiny room with its toilet in one corner, mattress in the other and a small table with one chair in the middle. It looked like he was going to be here for a long time.   
  


-#-

  
  
Potter was looking at him with a hungry look in his eyes. Snape had seen that look before. He'd seen that look whenever Lucius had massacred Muggles. He'd seen that look in the Dark Lord's eyes when he talked about his vision for the future. He'd even seen that look in his own eyes, back when he was a young lad and the world was there for the taking.  
  
"This won't hurt," Potter said. "I promise." He held up a bottle. "I bought this to help... lubricate you."  
  
Snape could feel his stomach turn over. "There will be no lubricating," he said through clenched teeth.  
  
"The potion that was given to you, it should have made the necessary changes by now," Potter said. "I was told that it would take about twenty-four hours before you would be fertile enough."   
  
"You're sick," Snape said flatly.   
  
That seemed to shake Potter out of his reverie.  
  
"I'm not your wife. I'm not Ginny," Snape continued. "This... whatever it is you've planned, it isn't going to bring your perfect life back." He swallowed before continuing. "Even if you somehow manage to get me pregnant, then what? Did you expect that we'd live happily ever after? Potter, even you couldn't be that stupid."  
  
"I'm not stupid!" Potter burst out. He seemed to take a deep breath to compose himself. There was a strange, dreamy look in his eyes. "I'll have a child – a little boy or a little girl."  
  
"And then what?" Snape challenged. "You'll kill me?"  
  
Potter gave him an odd look – it almost looked as though Potter was looking right through him. "That won't be necessary, I don't think," he said. He seemed to steel himself. "But first things first."  
  
Snape swallowed.  
  
Potter looked almost lost as he put the bottle of lube down on the table. Snape would have almost laughed, if the situation hadn't been so horrible. He was doomed to be tormented by Potters for the rest of his life. First James Potter and now Harry Potter. "T-take off your clothes," Potter told him.  
  
Snape didn't move a muscle. "You'd be a terrible teacher. No authority, whatsoever."  
  
Potter pulled his wand out of his pocket. "I said, take off your clothes."  
  
"Very romantic, Potter," Snape said softly, raising an eyebrow. "I can see that Ginny must have loved that one." He ignored the churn of fear in his stomach. He had to somehow stop or postpone the inevitable.   
  
"Would you prefer that I make you?" Potter asked. His eyes glittered and for a second, Snape felt almost as though he was thrown back in time and standing in front of a younger version of the Dark Lord. "Maybe you're more used to that, after servicing Voldemort and his henchmen for so many years."  
  
Snape almost laughed. Potter had no idea. "Their tastes aren't as perverse as yours," Snape drawled. "Even Bellatrix never stooped so low as to rape one of her prisoners."  
  
Potter's fingers trembled slightly. "Careful, Snape." He flicked his wand.  
  
Snape felt warmth stealing through him. His fingers moved of their own accord and begun unbuttoning his robes. He got down to his waist before Snape managed to get his lips to move. "How dare you," Snape managed to get out, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth. "Stop it!"  
  
Potter smiled. He flicked his wand again and then suddenly, Snape could move his limbs. "I said that you could either follow my orders or I could make you. Which do you prefer?"  
  
That little brat was quite possibly more sadistic than Bellatrix, Snape thought.   
  
"I don't have all day," Potter said.  
  
"Why, do you have more former Death Eaters to rape?" Snape inquired. He wasn't going to give Potter the satisfaction of seeing him obey. He had seen this kind of power play before. The Dark Lord used to indulge in it all the time. It infuriated him whenever Muggles stood up to him and refused to cower, refused to beg for their lives.   
  
"Fine," Potter said, sounding almost petulant. "Have it your way." He waved his wand.  
  
Again, Snape felt as though he had been frozen to the spot. He could breathe, but that was about it. He couldn't even seem to move his mouth and tongue, although, now that he thought about it, that was probably a good thing.  
  
"Take off your robes," Potter said, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Snape wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't make his eyelids move. Involuntarily, his hands moved through the remainder of the buttons until his prison-issue robes fell to a puddle at his feet. Azkaban hadn't seen fit to issue him with anything other than robes. Snape was suddenly aware that he was naked in front of Potter. The sudden coldness of the air hit him and he shivered.   
  
"Very nice," Potter said, sounding almost approving.  
  
Snape's eyes widened fractionally as he watched Potter walk up to him and begin to take odd his own robes. He wanted to look away as Potter began revealing pale skin, but he couldn't. Finally, the robes dropped to the ground as well. Snape gulped. Potter's cock looked suspiciously less flaccid than it should have been.  
  
Potter curled his fingers around his cock. This was almost embarrassing, Snape thought. He was watching Potter wank off. Of course, if that was all that was going to happen, Snape would have been fine with it. It's not as though he hadn't lived in a dormitory with boys for seven years. He'd seen and heard plenty of things. Potter wanking off in front of him was disturbing, but not anywhere near as disturbing as what was going to happen next.  
  
"Enjoying this?" Potter's voice was breathy.   
  
Snape tried to shake his head, but he couldn't move a muscle. He watched as Potter came up behind him. He could feel Potter's cock hard against his thigh as Potter reached around to caress his own cock. Snape opened his mouth to ask why, but nothing came out.   
  
"I want you to enjoy this," Potter murmured into his ear. "I can see that you aren't."  
  
Oh. Snape had forgotten that he was naked.   
  
Snape willed his cock to not react. After all, this was Potter. He'd never been attracted to men, and even if he was, he certainly wouldn't be attracted to Potter. Too bad his cock wasn't in agreement. He could feel himself lengthening.   
  
"Much better," Potter told him. "Five points to Slytherin."  
  
The words sounded odd coming out of Potter's mouth. It somehow made the entire situation worse to have a reminder of the fact that Potter was one of his former students. Snape jumped as Potter licked his ear.   
  
"Like that?"   
  
No, Snape snapped mentally. He was horrified that his cock was almost fully erect now. He was getting distracted. Potter was manipulating him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. With effort, Snape managed to screw his eyes shut.   
  
"I know what you'll like."   
  
Snape could feel Potter moving. He was trying to figure out what Potter was doing when suddenly something warm and wet enclosed around his cock. Snape jumped. What on earth was Potter doing? Of course, Snape knew exactly what Potter was doing, but why on earth was Potter doing it? Snape bit back a moan. How on earth had Potter become that good? This was definitely not the first time Potter's lips had been wrapped around a man's cock.   
  
Potter pulled back. "Now you're enjoying yourself."  
  
Snape could feel his heart thrumming. If he could move, it would have taken all his willpower not to yank Potter's head forward and thrust himself deep into that sweet mouth. "I..." he managed to gasp out.   
  
"You want me to continue," Potter interpreted his word correctly.  
  
Snape could feel Potter's mouth descend down on his cock again. Potter's hands were holding onto his hips as he swirled his tongue around the tip of Snape's cock. Snape shuddered as Potter's fingers inched around to his arse. What on earth? Snape's eyes flew open as Potter's fingers began to slide in. They were pre-lubricated; Snape had no clue when Potter had managed to do that. He could feel himself being stretched. It would have been incredibly uncomfortable and disconcerting if Potter wasn't licking and sucking his cock.   
  
Snape could feel himself about to come. It had been years since his last relationship, and even that was nothing to talk about. It had lasted two days and the woman had been nowhere near as skilled as Potter. As he spurted into Potter's mouth, he could feel Potter's tongue coaxing every last drop out of him. The world seemed to spin around him, even as Potter's fingers began thrusting into his arse.   
  
And then, suddenly, Snape found himself being able to move again. "You're sick," he proclaimed.  
  
Potter extracted his fingers from Snape's arse and smiled. His lips were reddened. "You enjoyed that," he said as he stood up.  
  
There was nothing that Snape could say in response to that. It was blatantly obvious that he had enjoyed it from the way Potter was licking his lips. "Are you proud of yourself?" he asked. "Just imagine what James and Lily would say if they saw you now."  
  
Potter hesitated before shrugging. "They would want me to be happy."  
  
Was Potter happy doing this? Snape wasn't sure what to think if that was true. He didn't think Potter was actually crazy, but he wasn't ready to rule anything out. After all, he'd never expected this to happen.  
  
Potter waved his hand. His wand flew off the ground and into his fingers. Snape could have kicked himself. After all that had happened, he'd forgotten that Potter's wand would have dropped to the ground with his robes. "Bend over the bed."  
  
"What?" Snape couldn't help the word that tumbled out of his mouth.  
  
Potter sighed and waved his wand.  
  
With a sickening feeling, Snape found himself moving towards the bed. Potter followed him. Snape's stomach turned over. It was going to be a long night.   
  


-#-

  
  
The next morning, Snape woke up with a sore arse and a raging headache. Potter was long gone, but the smell of sex still permeated the room. Wincing, Snape mentally tested the wards again, but they were as strong as ever. The entire situation sickened him. It was bad enough that his innards had been twisted to accept pregnancy. But what Potter did to him the previous night was even worse. The last thing Potter told him before he left was that he would be back again tonight. Snape wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, he hoped that he wasn't pregnant. But then if he wasn't, then Potter would be back again and again.  
  
"Albus, you old fool." Snape stared at the blank walls. "Why didn't you see this coming?" He lifted an arm and was about to punch it, but his hand stopped halfway. "What-?" He tried again to hit the wall, but he couldn't seem to.   
  
Slowly, Snape reached out to touch the wall. That worked.  
  
"Potter..." Potter's wards were more complicated than he thought. He couldn't do anything to hurt himself. He could still pinch himself, but not hard enough to injure. He could bite his tongue, but Snape suspected he couldn't sever it. Not that he would ever want to sever his own tongue. It was obviously some sort of protection for the baby, should he get pregnant. He probably couldn't hurt Potter either, Snape realised. The wards usually worked that way.   
  
Snape turned around and slumped against the wall.   
  


-#-

  
  
Potter waved his wand over Snape's stomach. "Nothing," he said his voice thick with disappointment.   
  
Snape's stomach churned. "Pregnancy tests aren't that accurate," he pointed out.  
  
"This is," Potter told him. "It's one of the side-effects of the potion you took. Pregnancy tests work almost immediately after implantation." He tilted his head to one side. "It was quite expensive, you know."  
  
Snape's upper lip curled. "Good. I hope it bankrupted you."  
  
"Spite doesn't become you," Potter said.  
  
Snape clenched his jaw. He was being bested by a wizard who was less than half his age. His arse hurt and his head still ached. Not for the first time since his trial, Snape wondered what would have happened if he hadn't betrayed the Dark Lord. For one thing, he wouldn't be Potter's slave. He'd probably have a position of authority within the Dark Lord's regime.  
  
Potter smiled faintly. "We won. You'll have to accept that."  
  
"This Ministry's corrupt and you know it," Snape spat. "If your little friend Granger were still alive, she'd agree with me."  
  
Potter's whole body seemed to tremble for a second. "But she isn't. Neither is Ginny. And I know who to blame for their deaths." He gestured for Snape to get on the bed. Obviously there was going to be no foreplay tonight.  
  
Snape stood his ground. He wasn't going to obey Potter. He wasn't going to give Potter even a semblance of the opportunity to think that this was a normal sexual encounter. "No," he said quietly. "You'll have to make me."  
  
"Very well." Potter waved his wand.   
  


-#-

  
  
Snape wondered whether Potter had put some sort of fertility drug in the potion as well, because it was less than a week later when Potter looked up with a tremulous smile after he performed the pregnancy test.   
  
"It's a boy." Potter's voice sounded almost awed as he looked at the result of the spell. "I can't believe it. I'm going to be a father."  
  
Snape swallowed the urge to throw up. He wasn't sure whether it was the knowledge of his pregnancy, the entire situation or the ridiculous look of happiness on Potter's face. "Congratulations," Snape said flatly. "You can tell him about how he was conceived. About all our happy nights together. I'm sure it'll make a wonderful bedtime story."  
  
Potter didn't seem to hear him. "What do you think we should call him?"  
  
Snape strode forward. If it wasn't for Potter's wards, he would have strangled Potter. As it was, his fingers flexed with the urge. "Do you realise that we're _not_ a couple. We're not _together_."  
  
The odd look in Potter's eyes disappeared. Potter looked up; his eyes were focused and hard. "Don't forget to take your vitamins." Potter waved his hand and a bottle appeared on the table. "I'll have the house elves send up something healthy for you for dinner."  
  
"Your consideration knows no bounds," Snape muttered. He then blinked rapidly. "You have house elves?" Why on earth had Potter been bringing him his food by hand then?  
  
Potter shrugged. "I thought you might want some company."  
  
Snape almost laughed. "There is no need to inflict your company upon me," he snapped. "I'd prefer my food just appear on the table."  
  
"Fine," Potter said. He frowned. "Would you like me to get them to send up some books as well?"  
  
Snape pressed his lips tightly together.  
  
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Potter said, sounding amused. "I can't give you anything magical, but I do have some Muggle books around the house that you might enjoy reading. It'll all appear on your table."  
  
When Potter didn't move, Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do you expect me to thank you?" he asked acidly.  
  
Potter gave a start. "No," he said. "Of course not." He looked around. If Snape didn't know better he would have thought it was an expression of concern on Potter's face. "Are you sure you have everything that you need?"   
  
"Leave, Potter," Snape ground out.  
  
With one last look around, Potter left.  
  


-#-

  
  


**Seven Months Later**

  
  
Potter looked as though he was about to say something but then closed his mouth again. "Is there anything else that you want?" he asked. "I know you've been craving watermelon lately."  
  
Snape's eyes narrowed. Potter must have been monitoring what the house elves had been giving him. It was true enough. The last time the house elves had given him a fruit platter, he'd eaten nothing but the watermelon. So for the past week, the only dessert that had appeared on the table had been watermelon. It was about the only thing that could distract Snape from the situation. His ankles were sore and his back felt as though somebody had taken a hammer to it. But that wasn't even the worst of it. The baby felt like it was kicking his bladder constantly.   
  
Potter's eyes suddenly brightened. "I thought you might want to go for a walk."  
  
Snape stared. "A walk?" he repeated incredulously.  
  
"Not outside, of course," Potter said quickly. "But I thought you might want to do a bit of exercise. This room's a bit small."  
  
"How considerate of you," Snape said dryly, but the sarcasm was lost on Potter.  
  
"Was that a yes?" Potter demanded.  
  
Snape sighed. He wanted to say no. He knew he should say no. But then again, he'd been stuck in this room for over half a year. There was really only so much he could take. At least with the Dark Lord, the torture never got boring. The only books Potter brought him were Muggle ones, and the majority of those were romantic ones written by somebody called Mills. Or was it Boon? Snape had never actually read any of them. He'd tried once, but had found the drivel worse than staring mindlessly at the wall. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that Potter subscribed to the inane notions in those books. "Fine," he said.  
  
Potter held out an arm. "Well, come on then."  
  
Snape looked at the arm as though it was some sort of alien appendage. "I can get up by myself," he snapped. With effort, Snape pushed himself up off the chair. He could have sworn that his very bones creaked as he stood up. One thing he'd learned over the last few months was that women were crazy for wanting to do this more than once. Maybe the bodies of witches were designed for this. Snape didn't know. All he knew was that he felt like he was carrying a cauldron down the front of his robes. It was incredibly uncomfortable.   
  
"Just take my arm," Potter told him, sounding exasperated.  
  
Snape stared before reaching out to hold onto Potter's arm. It had been the first time he'd touched Potter ever since the pregnancy had been confirmed. To his surprise, it didn't evoke the feelings of disgust that he had been expecting. Perhaps it was the hormones, Snape told himself as he slowly followed Potter out of the room. He almost expected alarms to go off everywhere, but obviously Potter had disabled them.  
  
They walked along in silence for a few minutes as Snape tried his best to take in as much of his surroundings as he could. This could be his only chance to get to know the internal layout of Potter's house. From the way his stomach stuck out, Snape suspected that his due date was soon. Potter hadn't mentioned anything about it, but Snape suspected that as soon as the baby was out, Potter would have no more use for him.  
  
And then, of course, there was the whole problem of _how_ the baby was coming out. Snape had spent many a day looking down at his ever-expanding stomach in horror.   
  
"Can I?" Potter asked suddenly.  
  
"What?" Snape asked suspiciously, stopping.   
  
"Touch your stomach," Potter said, sounding self-conscious.   
  
Slowly, Snape nodded. Potter reached over slowly and pressed his hand against Snape's stomach. "He's not kicking at the moment," Snape said.   
  
"This is kind of nice," Potter said, his voice sounding almost dreamy.  
  
Snape would have agreed if it hadn't been for the circumstance. If he had been married to Potter and Potter hadn't kept him locked up for the better half of a year, then yes, it might have been a nice little walk.  
  
"What's wrong?" Potter asked.  
  
Snape blinked. Potter had the temerity to ask him what was _wrong_? "You never cease to amaze me, Potter," Snape drawled as he began walking forward again.   
  
It was only a few minutes later when Potter stopped abruptly.   
  
Snape almost expected to be subjected to more questions, but Potter pointed towards the doorway to his room. "I suppose it's time for the prisoner to go back to his cell," Snape said as he let go of Potter's arm. Obviously Potter was regretting the idea. That was the only explanation for the shortness of the walk.   
  
Potter nodded.  
  


-#-

  
  
"I've been upgrading the wards on my house," Potter announced as he walked into the room.  
  
"So?" Snape snapped. A Muggle mystery book had appeared next to his bowl of cereal that morning. Despite himself, Snape had found himself intrigued by the string of murders in the book. He thought he'd figured out who the killer was, but he couldn't bring himself to flip to the last page to make sure. After all, he only had a few chapters left! And now, Potter had interrupted him.   
  
Potter hesitated. "I thought that you might want a bit more room." He gestured around the tiny little room with the toilet in one corner and the mattress in the other. "More room than this, I mean."   
  
"Were you proposing to let me go?" Snape asked sarcastically. "I promise I'll owl the baby back to you when it's born."  
  
Potter's eyes narrowed. "I was wondering if you'd want to stay in one of the other rooms in the house. One of the guest bedrooms."  
  
Snape's eyes narrowed. There had to be some sort of trick, some sort of ploy. Why on earth would Potter want him to stay in one of the guest bedrooms? "Undoubtedly, it's just a slightly bigger prison," he drawled. "I think I'll pass."   
  
Potter shook his head. "No, you don't understand. I've changed my wards to the house. They're the same as the wards to this room now. You should be able to go anywhere in the house."  
  
Snape pressed his lips together but didn't say anything.  
  
"I thought you'd be happy." Potter had the audacity to look hurt. "I know that this room's a bit small for you, especially now. It's a bit smelly too." He wrinkled his nose.   
  
"I'm your prisoner, Potter," Snape said flatly. "What made you think that anything you do – short of letting me go – would make me happy?" He fought the urge to smack the look off Potter's face. How dare Potter look as though he was the bad guy here? Snape knew that if the wards in the room weren't up, Potter would have ended up on the ground, his face black and blue.   
  
"So you want to stay here?" Potter asked.  
  
Snape watched as Potter turned around and was about to walk away. He opened his mouth to tell Potter to leave him alone, but then he closed it again. This was probably his one and only chance to get out of the room. "No, I don't," Snape admitted. He hated himself for the words, for giving Potter the satisfaction.  
  
Potter looked over his shoulder and beamed at him. "Well, come on then."  
  
Reluctantly, Snape followed Potter out of the room.  
  


-#-

  
  
It was strange, Snape thought. Ever since he had moved into the guest bedroom, Potter had been acting differently around him. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that Potter was treating him as though he was actually a guest in Potter's home, rather than a prisoner. Every evening, Potter would sit down and chat aimlessly with him like they were friends.  
  
Snape wasn't sure where Potter disappeared off to during the day and he didn't ask. Those hours gave him the time to explore the house, to try to find weaknesses in Potter's wards as well as the physical structure of the house. He hadn't found any yet, but that didn't mean there weren't any. Snape just needed more time.   
  
"Bought you a peach," Potter said one evening.   
  
Snape stared at the proffered fruit. "I don't like peaches."  
  
Potter shrugged. "This one's really nice. Promise."  
  
Looking at the fruit more closely, Snape noticed that a bite had already been taken out of it. "I especially don't want peaches that you've already started eating."  
  
Potter grinned. "I had to test whether it was good."  
  
Snape rolled his eyes and turned back to his book. He ignored the baby's kicking. He went to the bathroom half an hour ago. He most definitely didn't need to go again. He wanted to finish this book and figure out who the spy was.   
  
Five minutes later, Snape stood up to go to the bathroom.  
  


-#-

  
  
Snape gasped as he sat up suddenly on the sofa. "I ... I think..." He pressed a hand against his stomach. He had been feeling weird pains and aches – worse than his usual pains and aches – all day.   
  
Potter hurried over. "It's coming?" he asked, his eyes wide. "I'm going to be a dad?"  
  
"Not if you don't do something about it," Snape ground out. "I have no idea how this thing's coming out of me, so I'm bloody well hoping that you know." He could feel the contractions coming quickly now. Snape frowned. He didn't know much about childbirth, but he could have sworn that it was normally supposed to take longer than this. Undoubtedly Potter's potion had something to do with that.  
  
"I have no idea," Potter said.  
  
Snape turned to him. "What do you mean you have no idea?" he spluttered. "Were you planning on having this thing just claw its way out of my stomach? Or perhaps you were just going to cut it out?" He gasped as another contraction hit.   
  
"I didn't mean that," Potter said irritably. "The house elves know what to do."  
  
The house elves? Snape wasn't sure he wanted to trust his life to a bunch of house elves, but it didn't look like he had too many options. His eyes widened as Potter knelt down next to the sofa and grasped his hand.   
  
"I promise they know what they're doing," Potter told him.  
  
Snape could have sworn that Potter was trying to be reassuring. "Just shut up and get them."  
  
A fleeting smile crossed Potter's face as he clicked his fingers. One of his house elves appeared in front of him. "Get the potion," Potter ordered. The house elf disappeared.  
  
"Potion?" Snape managed to get out. It was a potion that started this entire mess. He wasn't sure he wanted to take another one of Potter's potions. "What does this one do?" Sweat rolled into his eyes as yet another contraction took a hold of him. He tried to breathe evenly, but the pain just seemed to roll over him.  
  
"It lets you have the baby," Potter told him calmly. "What did you think?"  
  
"I don't know!" Snape exclaimed. "Perhaps it was going to get me doubly pregnant!"  
  
The house elf reappeared and handed Potter a bottle. Potter uncapped it and held it over Snape's mouth. "You'll have to drink all of this."  
  
Snape stared up at Potter. His insides were twisted up in pain and the baby was kicking like mad at his bladder. "I-I suppose I don't have any other choice," he gasped out and then grabbed the bottle from Potter before another wave of pain hit. The potion smelt disgusting, but Snape gulped it down anyway.   
  
Potter patted his hand. "It'll be over soon."  
  
Snape bit his tongue as pain swirled through him.   
  


-#-

  
  
"I thought," Potter said as his fingers traced slow circles around Snape's stomach. "I thought that we might try for another one. A girl this time. I always wanted to decorate one of the bedrooms pink."  
  
Snape shifted. "You're insane, Potter," he said, but there was none of his usual vitriol in it. Perhaps it was whatever the house elves had given him for the birthing process. Snape still wasn't sure how it had happened. All he knew was that he had been in wracking agony one moment and the next moment, Potter was holding a tiny wrinkled baby boy in his arms. The boy was currently being bathed and fed by the house elves. Snape had hoped that he could get some sleep, but Potter had crawled into the bed next to him.  
  
"Perhaps," Potter said placidly.  
  
"What are you going to call him?" Snape found himself asking.  
  
Potter shrugged. "I thought that we could come up with a name together."  
  
Snape could feel his muscles tense up. They weren't in a relationship. This wasn't any sort of family unit. It was crazy that Potter would even want him to have input on this. "Perhaps," he said, not knowing what else to say.  
  
Potter shifted until he was sitting up in bed. "I need to go check on him. Did you want anything?"  
  
"No." There something not quite real about the situation. Snape felt as though if he pushed too hard, the illusion around him would shatter back into painful reality.   
  
"I'll get you some watermelon," Potter said.  
  
Snape wrinkled his nose. "I can't stand the taste of watermelon."  
  
"You ate enough of it over the last few months. Did you know the house elves had to go all the way to across to the other side of England to get some?"  
  
Snape hadn't known that. It gave him an odd sort of warmth deep in his chest. It was probably indigestion from all that watermelon, he decided. "I don't need anything."  
  
"Okay then," Potter said as he swung his legs out of the bed.   
  
Snape turned around and was about to close his eyes when he felt light pressure on his head. He lifted his head to look, but Potter was already out the door. Slowly, Snape laid his head back down on the pillow. He'd just imagined it, he decided. There was no possible way Potter would have kissed him on the head. The touch had felt almost caring, almost as though Potter was his lover. Or as though he was a replacement for Ginny.   
  
Snape's stomach turned over.   
  
Or maybe he'd just imagined it. It was the potions in his system. They were making him addled. What he needed to do was go to sleep and when he awoke, he would be back to normal. Potter was giving him more liberties nowadays. Snape knew that Potter would slip up one day and then he'd be able to escape.   
  
Freedom.  
  
Snape drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to aigooism for the beta! Written for serpenscript for hp_yule_balls.


End file.
